Never Too Late
by TheEmptyOwl
Summary: random one-shot... i was bored... JARA! :D R&R...


**Hello! This is just a random one-shot... enjoy?**

She could see no way out of this mess.

This mess had been going on too long for it to stop; too long for her to _want_ it to stop. She tried to stop it before it got out of hand but it was too late now; she wanted this. It had been going on for so long that she could see no way out of this.

She knew that all she was doing was weaving a tangled, messy web and she had tried to stop; to stop and untangle herself from this all, but here she was, wrapped up in Jerome Clarke's arms quite happily, when both of them knew perfectly well that she had a boyfriend.

Jerome was still asleep with his arms around Mara protectively, almost as if Mick might find them and snatch her away from him.

Her head was lying on his chest, and she looked up at his handsome face through her long, curly lashes, careful not to wake him.

This had to be the thousandth time she had run to him for help and they had ended up making love. She couldn't help it; If Mick stopped hurting her all the time then none of this would ever have happened.

Mara felt so hurt by all the things Mick did to her. Mara felt so ashamed, that she had to run to Jerome to comfort her. But most of all, Mara felt guilty, because she knew that although this relationship was nothing more than a means of escape for her, it meant a whole lot more to Jerome.

Time after time, Jerome had asked Mara to give him a chance and time after time she had turned him down.

He had claimed that he loved her, that he had loved her for so long and that his love for her was stronger than Mick's ever was. Mara knew that this was probably the truth, and if this wasn't so messed up, she would have said yes in a heartbeat, but right now, she just wanted to get rid of this horrible feeling, and she wasn't ready to fall in love again.

Jerome had obviously had enough of being rejected, but he'd do anything for her, and he still got to hold her and kiss her and sleep with her. That was better than not seeing her at all, right?

Mara tried to pull away from him without waking him. If she could get out of here without him waking up, she wouldn't have to face his lecture about how Mick was no good for her.

She managed to pull away from his protective grasp and she stood upright in bed. Unfortunately, his eyelids started to flutter and soon she found herself staring into those deep blue eyes.

"Hey there, beautiful," He whispered, moving himself about so that he could rub circles into her back, "trying to leave without so much as a goodbye?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shifted uncomfortably, trying to get away from his hand on her back, and he noticed this. He felt a pang of hurt, but tried to wave it off. Then she noticed that she was completely bare and, blushing, she pulled up the blankets to cover herself.

"I-I should… go." She whispered nervously, as if asking for permission to leave. He, too, shifted in the bed, and sat upright, so that he was towering over Mara.

"Mara…" he breathed, "Can't you just stay fo-"

"Jerome _please._" She pressed, obviously not in the mood to listen to him. He sighed, nodding.

"Right," he sighed, "But Mara, be careful, okay?" and his voice was laced with genuine concern.

"Of course." She said, getting up with the blanket still wrapped around her, rummaging around for her clothes and Jerome couldn't help but stare at her. Finally, he found his boxers, which were thrown carelessly to the other side of the room by an over-eager Jerome last night, and he pulled them on, along with his dressing gown.

Mara was dressed now too, and she looked at Jerome, to find that he was already staring intently at her.

"Bye, Jerome." She muttered, almost apologetically. Jerome just nodded in reply, tired of all this secrecy. By now, she knew her way around his place- it was practically her second home- so she showed herself out, letting the door close with a soft click as she walked out into the bitter winter air.

* * *

"Hey babes." Mick began as Mara entered their apartment, "Listen, babes, I am _so_ sorry about earlier."

By earlier, he meant that he had cheated on her with some girl. Mara couldn't remember her name, but she was used to it. He had cheated on her with over 10 girls- well, she knew about 10 girls, there were probably more that he hadn't told her about.

He would always get drunk, go to a bar, pick up some girl, sleep with him, then come back home and beg for Mara's forgiveness. He wouldn't break up with Mara though, despite cheating on her countless times, because she was the only thing stable in his life. All those girls came and went, but Mara was always there.

So, basically, Mick was using Mara much like Mara was using Jerome.

What Jerome wanted to know was, why the hell she didn't leave this jerk, and honestly, though it probably doesn't make sense, Mick and Mara wondered this secretly too.

"It's fine Mick." She sighed.

"No, no it's not, I am so, _so _sorry. You left last night too- where did you stay last night?"

"U-um… a friend's place."

"Who?" Mick pried, as if she had done something wrong- she _had,_ but Mick didn't know.

"You don't know hi-her… you don't know her." She quickly covered up her mistake; if Mick found out that she had stayed at a man's place, she knew the consequences. Just imagine what he'd do if he found out that that man was Jerome and that he had done a lot more than comfort her…

"okay…" He answered, suspiciously, then went back to their previous topic. "So anyways, do you really forgive me?"

"For the thousandth time Mick, yes." She grumbled, annoyed, but Mick didn't notice this.

"Good." He grinned, standing up and walking up to her, "Never again. It will never happen again." He whispered into her ear, and Mara resisted the urge to roll her eyes; is she had a penny for every time she'd heard that before…

Mick moved down to kiss her neck, and she tried not to squirm too much. Then, suddenly he pulled back.

"I don't remember you having that shirt." He pointed out accusingly. Mara looked down, and her eyes almost bulged out of her head- she was wearing Jerome's shirt! How could she have been so stupid? And why hadn't Jerome said anything?

"It's new."

"It's a man's shirt, Mars." He prodded, obviously not buying it.

"I-I umm…" She stuttered, but before she could make a sentence out of her clumsy words, he grabbed her by the shoulders roughly and spun her around. He pushed his hand down the back of the shirt and pulled out the label harshly, and Mara winced at the pain he was causing but she also kept her eyes shut tight, awaiting the reaction.

_Please don't have Jerome's name on the label, please don't have Jerome's name on the label,_ she prayed silently.

"Clarke!" he roared. "You were with Clarke!"

"I-it's not w-what it looks like, h-honestly," she lied, "I just spent the night there, that's all."

"So why'd you say that you spent the night with someone I didn't know?"

"W-well, you weren't all that close…" she began

"Why did you say you spent the night with a girl?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't like me spending the night with a man a-and anyway, w-we didn't do anything."

"So his shirt just happened to get mixed up in your clothes?"

"No… I- erm…"

Before anything else could be said, Mick raised his arm high up into the air, and his hand came crashing down, colliding with Mara's cheek with a loud and resounding slap. The force of it was so strong that it sent Mara tumbling to the floor, and she stayed there, looking down.

"GET OUT" he bellowed.

* * *

Jerome opened the door. He wasn't expecting any guests- not even Mara; she always called before arranging to meet up.

As the door opened more, Mara became visible, and she had a whole new expression in her eyes. Her face didn't show her usual saddened expression, instead her face held a vulnerable and ghostly look.

"Mara…" He was lost for words, he had so many questions but none seemed to escape his mouth, so she broke the silence instead.

"I'm really sorry, Jerome. But could I possibly stay here tonight?" she asked this as if she had never asked to stay overnight before, and Jerome gestured with his arm for her to step inside.

"Of course, but why come here again? Two times in one day?" he chuckled nervously, afraid of the look in Mara's eyes- he didn't know if he should crack a joke to lighten the mood or whether to join her in her sadness.

"It's just…" she sighed, unable to finish her sentence.

"Mara? Are you wearing… make-up?" He extended an arm to touch her cheek lightly, pressing on the bruise that was invisible to him, and she winced at the pain. He took her hand and led her to the kitchen, and she followed, not questioning anything, almost like a little lost kitten.

As soon as they reached the sink, Jerome turned on the tap and ran his fingers under it, then put his now wet hand on Mara's cheek, watching as the make-up slid off her skin to reveal a fresh bruise. He gasped.

"Did he…_hit_ you?"

Mara said nothing, instead she looked away, and Jerome took this as a yes.

"I'm going to kill him." He growled, his icy eyes looked as though there was fire burning behind them. He pulled away from Mara, quite literally ready to kill Mick, but Mara's hand flew out and grabbed his hand. Her eyes told him to stop.

"Please don't Jerome." She whispered and Jerome was about to argue back when Mara took a step forward and buried her face in his chest, arms snaking around his torso. He just stood there, stunned. Mara didn't hug him voluntarily- unless they were going to sleep together.

"I'm really sorry Jerome; for using you; for turning you down. But all this time you were right, Mick will never change. I told you that this relationship meant nothing to me, but you were still there for me, and I would be lying right now to say it means nothing to me. You are everything to me. I should've said yes to you the first time. I hope it isn't too late?" she looked up at him expectantly.

He looked down at her with wide eyes, he had not expected her to say that. His hands moved from her waist to cup her cheeks, all too aware of her bruise, and swooped down to mould their lips together.

"for you, Jaffray, I could wait forever."

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